


Last Wish

by whatadudeman



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatadudeman/pseuds/whatadudeman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry lost his boyfriend and Zayn lost his best friend. One year later and they meet at his grave. The rest is up to a little bit of fate and someone’s last wish.</p><p>"Zayn, what’s the matter?"<br/>His breath ghosts over my lips as our foreheads stay together, making thought extremely difficult.<br/>"Would he want this?" I ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Wish

I can’t believe it’s already been one year since Louis died. It feels like it was just yesterday. 

He died on September 5th, exactly one year ago today. I know its cliche to visit his grave on the anniversary of his death but I’m doing it anyway. I don’t know what I’m expecting from this experience but I do know that my visit is long overdue. 

His grave is a nice one, if you can even say that about graves without sounding horrible. But it really is. It’s a small headstone with an engraved message, something his parents chose. It reads: 

Louis Tomlinson  
Loving Brother and Devoted Son

I know that if it had been my choice the gravestone would read:

Tommo, Funnyman Extraordinaire

I think Louis would have liked that to be written on his gravestone. Hell, I’d like that to be written on my gravestone one day. 

"Hey pal," I say aloud. I know it’s weird to talk to nothing and nobody, but today is a day for all sorts of cliches. "I know it’s been awhile and that if you were here you would probably say I’m a shit friend." I tuck my hands into my pockets. "I don’t have anything really important to tell you," I go on. "I don’t have a new best friend, if that makes you happy. Liam tries but he’s just not you. And he’s never going to be." I take in a deep breath. "Sorry," I apologize to a piece of stone. "I’m so depressing. I think its because that’s just how I feel. One year later and I still feel this way." Then a laugh escapes my throat. "I bet you’re laughing at me right now," I say as I glance to the sky. "It’s okay, I deserve it." 

"Nobody deserves to be sad," a voice says.  
For a moment I think it’s Louis and I nearly shit my pants. I look to my left to see a guy standing there- long coat, curly hair and smiling eyes.  
"Who the hell are you?" I ask.  
"Harry," he says, and reaches out a hand.  
I take his hand and shake it although part of me doesn’t trust it.  
"I think we met before, maybe once or twice."  
I furrow my brow, thinking that I would surely remember someone like him. “Sorry, don’t think so.”  
"It’s Zayn, right?"  
I nod slowly.  
"You were Louis’ best mate," he says.  
I furrow my brow. “He never mentioned you.”  
"I was sort of a secret," he admits.  
I shoot him a look of disbelief.  
"We were dating on the down low, hiding it from his parents."  
This information shocks me because the Louis I knew wasn’t gay.  
"I think you’ve got the wrong headstone mate," I tell him.  
He smiles softly before taking his hands out of his jacket pockets and pulling up his left sleeve. On his wrist is a bracelet that’s identical to the one Louis never took off, a bracelet from some music festival.  
"You have got to be shittin’ me.."  
Harry shrugs with a shake of his head.  
"Why didn’t he tell me he was gay?" I question aloud, even though I’m not looking at Harry anymore.  
"He wasn’t ready to tell the people he cared about," Harry says. "I barely convinced him to go out with me."  
I take a breath to steady myself. This is a lot, even one year later.  
"Well I don’t get why he wouldn’t tell me,” I go on.  
"Maybe it was because you’re gay."  
"What the hell does that have to do with it? If anything that would make it easier for him."  
"It’s hard to come out to your openly gay friends. You wonder if they’ll question you, or maybe if you would unintentionally insult them if it ends up not being the case."  
I glare at him from the corner of my eye even though I know he could be right.  
"Whatever," I say. "I have to get back to work."  
I turn to go when he speaks up.  
"Wait," he says.  
"What?" I ask, looking back to him.  
"You didn’t say goodbye to Louis," he says as he gestures to the grave.  
"I’m sick of saying goodbye to my dead best friend," I say, a little angrier than I should, my eyes unintentionally filling with tears.  
Harry’s face falls as I turn again. “Wait, Zayn.” He grabs my elbow and I stop, glaring through my tears.  
"I didn’t mean it like that," he apologizes.  
"Doesn’t make it easier," I complain.  
The next thing he does is unexpected. Harry places his hands firmly on my back and brings me into his chest. I’m still for a moment against his coat, feeling nothing, and at the same time something. His hand slides up my back and his fingers into the hair at the base of my neck, guiding my face into his shoulder.  
"Just let it out," he whispers. "It’s never to late to grieve."  
And against my better judgement, I do let it out, immensely and all over his coat. My arms find their way around him as well and this cool day suddenly feels a bit warmer. 

The next time I see Harry is at work. He comes in around six and he has a woman with him. They take a seat at the bar, in my section too. When I go over to ask them what they want, he smiles.  
"Hey Zayn," he says.  
I give him a small smile back. “Hey, what can I get you?”  
"I’ll have a gin and tonic," he says. "Cara?" he asks the girl.  
She smiles and says she’ll have a martini. I nod and get to it as they chat. Cara goes to the restroom a few minutes later and Harry diverts his attention to me.  
"How did you know I work here?" I ask him.  
He lets out a chuckle. “Actually, I didn’t. Because believe it or not, not everything in my life is about stalking down my ex-boyfriends best friend.”  
I roll my eyes and set down his drink.  
"Thanks," he says.  
"So then what are you doing here?” I ask.  
"We got out of work a bit early today so I thought I’d get a drink."  
"Whose the blonde?"  
"Cara. A coworker," he pauses for a minute as one of my eyebrows raises. "Just a coworker,” he affirms.  
"I believe you," I laugh. "Only a gay man would have the guts to wear that fedora you walked in here with, especially with those boots."  
His eyes widen a bit at his shock, before narrowing. “I should report you to your manager,” he smirks.  
"You’re looking at him," is my reply.  
"Really?" he asks. "Good for you, I’m impressed."  
I shrug. “Yeah well, when your best friend dies you throw yourself into your work- its easier not to think about it that way.”  
He nods, “I get it.”  
I assume that he must have done the same thing when Louis died. I want to ask him about it but Cara returns before I can.  
"Thanks," she smiles before taking a sip of her drink.  
I give her a smile and get on to my other customers.  
The moments I talk to Harry that night are slim but I know he’s watching me. Part of me thinks he’s just looking out for me, but part of me is also really annoyed by that. I survived for a year without him, who said I needed him now?  
It’s nearly seven when he and Cara grab their coats to go.  
"Zayn," Harry says.  
I go over to him and he leans over the counter.  
"Can we talk later?" he asks. "I want to show you something."  
I furrow my brow, not sure I understand. “I get off at eleven.”  
"Here," he says, brushing his hand against mine.  
When he’s gone a piece of paper lingers in my palm. I open it when I step outside for a smoke. It’s an address.  
After work I give the cabbie the address, even though it’s against my better judgement. The apartment building I’m dropped off at is in the better part of town, where the young and wealthy live- well according to Niall. Though I’m not sure how reputable he really is on these matters. Either way I go in and search the call box for his name.  
"Hello?" Harry answers.  
"It’s me," I say.  
"Come up," he responds.  
The buzzer unlocks the door a second later and I head up the stairs. Once I reach his floor I see that he already has the door open and is standing in it’s frame, smiling.  
"I’m glad you came," he smiles.  
"Just make it quick," I tell him. "I’m tired and I’ve got leftover Chinese in the fridge that’s calling my name."  
I walk past him and into the apartment. It’s bigger than I would have imagined, and better furnished.  
"Can I get you something to drink?" he asks.  
I shrug. “What are my options?”  
He gestures to the liquor cabinet, “Wine, Vodka, Whiskey..”  
"If I didn’t know better I would think you were trying to get me liquored up so you could take advantage of me."  
He laughs. “Not this time, I’m afraid.”  
"Then I’ll have whatever you’re having," I tell him.  
"Fine," he says before getting out two wine glasses.  
He opens the bottle and pours the glasses while I let my eyes wander about the place. “So what did you want to show me?”  
"Give you, actually," he says as he hands me a glass.  
I furrow my brow. Harry sets his glass down on the coffee table and grabs the jacket that’s thrown over the shoulder on the couch.  
"This," he says as he spreads it out on front of him, "was Louis’."  
A small smile spreads on my face as I recognize the jacket as the one he never took off, for a good three years. It’s leather, has missing buttons, and is definitely not in mint condition.  
"He left it here," Harry continues. "I think you should have it."  
I focus my eyes on him again. “That’s nice of you but I think you should keep it. Louis would want you to have it.”  
"I think he would want his best friend to have it," he says, holding it out to me.  
I take it in my hands for a brief moment, feeling over the texture. It’s not about the damn coat, it’s about the memory of Louis.  
"Why do you want me to take it off your hands so much?" I ask. "What, does Louis haunt it or something?"  
A small smile spreads across Harry’s face. “I just thought that maybe having something of his would help you.”  
I glare at him. “I don’t need a damn coat to help me get over whatever it is you think I still need help getting over.”  
"Don’t you want something of his?" he asks.  
"I already have something of his. It’s some stupid box he left under his bed that has my damn name written on it and a lock that I have no key for. So thanks- but I’m doing just fine on ‘sentimental things from dead people’.”  
He tries to rest a hand on my shoulder but I step away.  
"And I told you at the cemetery that I’m fine. So please stop trying to help me!"  
I shouldn’t yell but it’s what I do. Harry seems a bit taken aback at first, but then he just frowns and waits. I’m so angry that I feel my body tense all over, first my fists.  
"I don’t want the jacket," I try to say- but a sob I won’t let go clogs my throat.  
"You don’t have to," he whispers. "it’s your choice."  
"Good," I remark.  
"Can I hold you, Zayn, just for a minute?" he asks.  
I stare into his eyes, soft and sad, and I can tell he’s genuinely concerned. I nod slowly.  
He grabs me within a second, pressing me against him. I’m quick to reciprocate this time, my nails surely and uncomfortably digging into his back. I let out my sob on his chest, feeling hopeless and desperate. Harry tries to step back but I cling to him like my life depends on it.  
"Zayn," he says, pushing at me.  
I still don’t let go, only holding tighter.  
"Zayn." His voice is commanding this time.  
I let him go even though I don’t want to. He steps back and I look at him like he’s just shot Bambi.  
"Why would you offer to hold me only to make me let you go?" I ask.  
"So I can do this," he says before taking my face in his hands.  
Harry presses his lips to mine softly, his eyes shut tight. At first I stand there still, shocked at what had just happened. But in a moment I am begging for more, biting for it. He lets me and we kiss more, deeper this time. I let my hands travels to his broad, firm shoulders. His hands slide down my neck and to my waist, where they linger for far to long. I break our kiss to move it down his neck, to the shoulder blade exposed by his v-neck. He grabs at the hem of my shirt, tugging at it. I raise my arms and let him slip it off of me, not hesitating with his a moment later. We kiss again and I feel as though it’s better than just a minute before, because there’s more lust in it than anything. When we stop to take a breath I let myself sink down to my knees, grabbing for his belt. I’m able to undo the buckle before Harry puts his hands on my shoulders.  
"Not like this," he says.  
I don’t understand, looking up at him and frowning. He holds out his hand for mine and when I take it, pulls me back to my feet. His grip doesn’t falter as he leads us to the hallway and finally to the bedroom. I let him undress me but when it comes time to get into the bed, I hesitate. I can’t help but think of Louis and that he had probably been in this bed at one point. Harry notices my hesitation, standing in front of me in what’s left of his clothes- boxer briefs.  
"Zayn, what’s the matter?"  
His breath ghosts over my lips as our foreheads stay together, making thought extremely difficult.  
"Would he want this?" I ask. I don’t have to specify, I know.  
"I think he wanted us to find each other."  
I look into his eyes with heavy lids of worry. But Harry shows no ill will. His eyes show a ray of hope that I haven’t seen in anyone else’s. So I connect our lips once more, bringing his body close to mine as I let myself fall back onto the bed. 

The next morning I’m at first confused. When I open my eyes it’s to an unfamiliar room. I think to last night and what happened. I feel warm thinking about the way Harry was so gentle with me, gentle and so wonderful.  
"Morning," I hear him say.  
I turn to meet his eyes in the doorway. “Morning,” I reply.  
He smiles as he takes a seat near my knees. “Do you have work today?” he asks.  
I nod against the pillow. “At four.”  
"Good," he says. "I made breakfast. Do you want a shower first?"  
I nod again and sit up. We’re now really close to one another, our hands touching lightly on the comforter.  
"Sleep okay?" he asks.  
"Mhm."  
He puts his hands on his knees. “Okay, I’ll set out a towel for you. When you’re done you can find something to wear in my closet.”  
He goes to get up but I grab his elbow. He looks back with concern. “Thanks,” I smile.  
He leans over and leaves a kiss on my forehead. 

When I’m done with my shower and dressed in a pair of Harry’s sweatpants and his T-shirt, I meet him in the kitchen. He has two plates set out and is making tea.  
"Aren’t you just the perfect housewife?" I smirk.  
He turns so that I can catch the smirk that’s caught his eye too. “I see that shower woke you up.”  
"It did," I agree.  
"Good, now have a seat."  
I do and he joins me with the tea. At first there’s light conversation about whether I need sugar or not and asking to pass the syrup, then it’s quiet. Silent, actually.  
After a moment I can’t take it anymore. “So what is this?”  
"That’s french toast, that’s a bit of potato.." he says as he points to the various things on my plate.  
"Not the food," I sigh. "This," I say as I point in between us, "this,” I emphasize as I gesture around me, not meaning the apartment but everything as a whole.  
He nods and his face falls serious. “I would give you an answer if I knew of one,” he says.  
I sigh again.  
"But I do know that whatever this is, it makes me happy.”  
I look into his eyes.  
"And not just happy because I got laid," he dismisses, "or that now I know about that cheeky tattoo you have on your hip," he smiles before pausing, "-but happy because ever since I met you again two weeks ago, I feel better than I have in a while."  
I feel my face get hot and give him a small smile.  
"Does that make sense?" he asks. "Is that okay?"  
I nod and let out a short laugh. “Yeah, that’s okay,” I tell him. “it’s really nice to hear, actually.”  
"Good," he smiles. "Now let’s stop with the sentimental stuff and you can make fun of my cooking or something."  
I laugh, “Well, since you mentioned it..”

A few days later is the first time I tell Liam about Harry.  
"He sounds like a pretty nice guy," Liam encourages.  
"He is," I say. "But there’s just this one thing.."  
"He leaves his clothes all over the floor?" Liam asks.  
I shake my head.  
"Messy eater?" he questions.  
"No," I interrupt before he can go along with his next guess. "The thing is, Harry was Louis’ boyfriend."  
"Zayn, Lou wasn’t gay."  
I sigh. “I thought so too, but it turns out he was, and Harry was his last boyfriend.”  
Liam bites his lip. “Why didn’t Louis tell us?”  
"According to Harry he wasn’t ready," I tell him.  
Liam frowns.  
"I know how you feel," I say. "It’s strange to think that he would have hid that from us."  
Liam nods. “But how do you feel about Harry being Louis’ ex?”  
"Guilty," I admit. "I know that if Louis was here and if he and Harry had broken up, I would never date him- because you don’t do that to your friends." I pause. "And part of me also thinks that maybe if Louis was still here, they might still be together.”  
"You don’t know that," Liam says. "Did you ever see them interact?"  
I shake my head.  
"So you have no way to judge how their relationship was. And saying that they may still have been together is just cruel and unusual torture on yourself."  
I nod. “Liam,” I begin. “what do you think Louis would want me to do?” I ask.  
"I think he would want you to do what makes you happy," Liam answers.  
I give him a small smile. “Thanks.”  
But I also think that it’s easy to say that when you’re not the one who feels guilty. Every time I’m with Harry all I have in the back of my mind is Louis and what he would think. Sometimes I even imagine him bitching me out and flipping his hair at me. 

It’s late one night that Harry texts that he’s just gotten off work and that he’s had one hell of a day. Feeling sorry for him, and maybe also a bit lonely myself, I head over to see him- stopping to pick up food for us on the way. Just as I’m leaving my favorite bagel shop, it starts to rain. It’s a slow drizzle at first, so I don’t worry about catching a cab. It’s when I’m nearly there that it pours like someone has just turned on a faucet. I’m drenched in seconds and so is the bag with the food in it, causing the bottom to give out and send everything crashing to the ground. I try to save it but my hands aren’t quick enough and my hair is falling in my eyes, and I’m shivering and cold.. All of this is enough to leave me on my knees in the middle of the sidewalk, where I had fallen trying to catch the food.  
I look to the sky and I yell. “Is this punishment?” I ask. “Is this your way of telling me I’m a horrible friend? Is it, Lou? Why don’t you just strike me down with lightning and make it easier on yourself?”  
A girl walking past gives me a concerned look. Another women just stares.  
"What a weirdo," three teenage girls agree.  
"Zayn?"  
I look up again to see Harry standing there with a concerned look and an umbrella. I sigh.  
"What the hell happened to you?" he asks.  
"Nothing," I tell him as I quickly get up and straighten out my jacket. "What are you doing out here?"  
"I was coming to see you," he answers.  
I roll my eyes.  
When he speaks his voice is angrier than I’ve ever heard it. ”I’m sorry that I’ve had a shit day and that I could really use a bit of comfort right now and that the only person I wanted to see was you- my boyfriend, but please- please be annoyed with me right now. That’s a good choice considering I’m the one with the umbrella and you’re the one getting strange looks in the street.”  
"Did you just call me your boyfriend?" I nearly whisper.  
His eyes are as wide as mine as he realizes what he said.  
"I’m sorry," he tries to say.  
I shake my head to cut him off, grabbing his face in my hands and kissing him.  
"I don’t want you to be sorry," I tell him, my forehead against his.  
Harry sighs a smile as I leave kisses on his nose and cheeks.  
"Get a room!" someone across the street yells.  
We both laugh, our cheeks rosy from the kiss and cold.  
"Come on," Harry says as he takes my hand and steps over the mess I made in the street.  
When we get to Harry’s he insists that I take a hot shower to stop the shivers and prevent my getting sick. I listen to him, mainly because I want him to shower with me. If I’m going to feel bad about something, I should at least have something to feel bad about, right?  
"You know where the towels are," he assumes when I go into the bathroom.  
"Show me again?" I ask.  
He comes into the room and opens the small cupboard that sits atop the toilet.  
"Here," he says as he pulls one out and hands it to me.  
"Where’s yours?" I ask him once he closes the cupboard and turns back to me.  
He furrows his brow.  
I set the towel down on the counter and grab for his belt. He smiles at that, catching on.  
"So dinner was really just a way to get into my pants, huh?" he jokes.  
I nod. “I planned the rain storm too, just so I would have an excuse to shower with you. You know, if dinner failed.”  
He laughs at that and raises his arms so I can pull his sweater off. It’s when were both in the shower, him running the soap bar down my chest, that I apologize.  
"Harry," I say as he turns me around, "I’m sorry about earlier."  
I don’t need to see his face to know his brow is furrowed. “Why?” he asks.  
"I was having an ‘I hate my life moment’ when you happened to come along. I didn’t mean to act so annoyed and roll my eyes at you like I did. If I’m honest I’m really glad you came along."  
I turn around to see he’s smiling. “If you hadn’t have been annoyed with me I probably wouldn’t have let it slip that I thought of you as my boyfriend, so as strange as it sounds, I’m glad you pissed me off.”  
I let out a laugh at that. “Because it got us to where we are now?”  
"Exactly," he smiles. "And I’d say that anytime you’re naked and in my shower is a good time.”  
"Well I’d hope I was naked," I say. "How ridiculous would I look wearing clothes in the shower?"  
"I figure about as ridiculous as you looked kneeling in the middle of the street."  
I shoot him a glare before he hugs me and leaves a kiss on my head. “And I’m also really happy that you agreed to be my boyfriend,” he says before getting out of the shower.  
I follow and grab my towel. “I don’t think I agreed to that,” I tell him.  
He has his towel tied around his waist when he turns back to me and raises a brow. “Oh, really?” he asks.  
I nod.  
"You kissed me and told me you didn’t want me to be sorry," he says.  
I follow him into his bedroom. “Yes, but that’s not an answer to a question. I would also like to point out that there was never a question asked.”  
He stops at his dresser and pulls out two t-shirts and two pairs of pajama pants. He tosses one set to me. “Are you saying you want me to ask you?”  
I shake my head once were both dressed. ”No,” I tell him. “Harry, will you be my boyfriend?”  
He laughs. “Oh, you want to ask me.”  
I smile.  
He rolls his eyes playfully and nods. “Yes, Zayn.”  
"Good," I smile.  
"Come here you idiot," he tells me. Harry wraps his arms around me and kisses the side of my head. 

A few days later I tell Niall about Harry, mainly because he keeps telling me I’m never home when he stops by. That is, of course, because I’m always at Harry’s now. He’s a little confused by the Harry/Louis situation too.  
"I’d be mad if you dated my ex, even if I was dead," he says.  
"You don’t know that," I try to tell him.  
"How do you know I don’t know?" he asks.  
"Because I’ve never dated your ex when you were dead, so you really have no experience with this."  
He shrugs. “Whatever, I think Louis would be mad.”  
"Are you telling me I shouldn’t date him?" I ask.  
He nods.  
I feel guilty on my own, I don’t need Niall reinforcing that. But he doesn’t get it, I reason. He doesn’t get it because he doesn’t know Harry. Maybe if he knew how great Harry was, it would change his mind. And that’s the reasoning I use when I plan a dinner at my flat, with Harry, Liam, Niall, and I.  
Harry is the first to show up that night, and with flowers.  
"I’m not a girl," I tell him when I open the door.  
"They’re not for you," he says. "they’re for the apartment, I figured it would make it smell a little better in here."  
I glare at his smirk as he steps inside. He places one hand on the side of my face and a kiss to the other side before handing me the flowers.  
"So what’s on the menu tonight?" he asks as I search the cupboards for a vase.  
"Did you actually think I was going to cook?" I laugh.  
"Maybe?" he asks.  
"I ordered a pizza," I tell him.  
"Zayn.." he nearly whines.  
"Harry.." I mimic.  
We share a laugh for a moment before I finally find the vase. I somehow managed to put it in the back of the tallest cabinet I have.  
"Would you mind?" I ask him.  
He reaches for it and easily brings it down.  
"Hey, looks like you might be good for something after all."  
He sends a comical glare my way. “I’m good at a lot of things,” he says.  
"Like?" I flirt.  
I’m at the sink now, filling the vase and talking to Harry over my shoulder. He joins me and presses his body close to mine, his chest right against my back, arms around my waist. “You weren’t complaining last night when I had you against the headboard and-“  
"Whoa, TMI."  
Harry lets go of me quickly and we both turn to see Niall in the doorway. I shut the water off and take a breath to hopefully rid the blush I can feel creeping along on my skin.  
"Niall, thanks for coming," I force a smile. "Niall, this is Harry. Harry, Niall."  
They shake hands a bit hesitantly.  
"Let me get you something to drink," I offer.  
"I’ll have a beer," Niall says.  
"Sure," I reply. "Harry?"  
"Same," he says.  
I grab the bottles and meet them back out in the living room.  
"So what do you do, Niall?" Harry asks.  
"I work the sound board for a radio station," Niall answers. "What do you do?"  
Harry turns to face him in his chair. “I work in advertising. I oversee finances, mostly.”  
Niall nods. “Cool,” he says.  
I’m glad Liam shows up when he does because Harry and Niall have run out of formalities at that point.  
"Hey Harry, I’m Liam," he says as he introduces himself to Harry.  
Harry shakes his hand and smiles. “Nice to meet you.”  
"What’s for dinner, Zayn?" Liam asks.  
"Why do you people think I would actually cook? I ordered a pizza."  
That gets a laugh out of Niall and it makes me feel better about this whole thing. When the pizza arrives I insist that everyone come sit at the table and eat like civilized people.  
"I’m glad we finally got to meet," Liam tells Harry when we sit down. "Zayn made you out to be a pretty cool guy."  
"I hope you still think that after tonight," Harry jokes.  
Liam smiles and looks back to his food. I catch Harry’s eye for a minute and send him the most grateful look I can muster up.  
"I’m sorry," Niall begins. "But how can you think this is okay?"  
"Niall-" Liam tries to say.  
"No, let him say what he has to say," I tell him.  
"I want to know how you two can feel justified in doing this, whatever it is, with what happened to Louis."  
Niall makes a good point, it’s something that I think about a lot, but I wouldn’t let him know that.  
"Niall, Louis and I dated a long time ago," Harry says.  
"But if you hadn’t dated Louis, you wouldn’t even know who Zayn was. Doesn’t that make you feel anything?"  
"I can dwell on the past or I can move on, which would you do?" Harry asks.  
"He’s dwelling," I say. "Niall is obviously still stuck in a time when Louis was here because he just can’t get over the fact that he’s gone."  
"At least I’m not moving on with his boyfriend," Niall lashes out back to me.  
That knocks me off my high horse. I don’t want it to hurt, but it does, just a little bit. I think they can tell the effect his statement has made on me because the table is suddenly silent and mainly in awe.  
"We should probably go Niall," Liam says.  
Niall nods and they get up to go. I let them because I don’t have anything else to say. It’s always the ones that are closest to you, isn’t it?  
Harry gets up from his chair and comes over to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Do you want me to go?” he asks.  
I want to say no but I nod a yes.  
"Okay," he says. With a hand on my shoulder he leans down and places a soft kiss to my cheek. "I love you," he reminds me.  
When Harry’s gone I go to bed alone and that’s exactly how I feel. I wish that he had stayed. It’s nearly eleven but I call him anyway.  
"Are you okay?" is the first thing he asks.  
"I think so," I tell him.  
"I don’t like to see you like that," he admits.  
"I know."  
He doesn’t say anything a moment.  
"I wish Niall could understand," I say to break the tension.  
"He doesn’t have to understand, Zayn. Is this between you and me or you, me, and Niall?"  
'It's you and me.”  
"It’s always gonna be you and me," he reminds me.  
I smile at that.  
"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asks.  
"I’ll let you know," I tell him.  
"Okay. But call me if you need anything. I’m here for you."  
"Goodnight Harry," I say.  
"Goodnight," he replies.  
"Love you." 

It’s against my better judgment that I go to see Louis the next day. It’s after my morning shift and I figure now is a better time than never. I walk up to his grave, hands in my pockets.  
"I’m here and I want you to tell me what you want me to do," I begin.  
Not physically tell me, I know that isn’t possible, but a sign - or something.  
"Because now I have Liam on one shoulder saying ‘Louis would want you to be happy’ and Niall on my other shoulder saying ‘don’t you feel guilty?’"  
I take a breath and sigh.  
"Of course I feel guilty," I tell myself. "and you know that. So please Lou, end my suffering and tell me what you want me to do."  
I wait as nothing happens, not even a change in the wind.  
"You know, you had a really big mouth when you were here, shame it didn’t carry on into the afterlife."  
I feel bad for saying that, in case he is listening. But then again I’m still angry. Not just with Louis, with everything.  
I huff and walk back to my apartment. I stand in the foyer a minute, fuming. It’s just then that the jacket on the couch catches my eye. It’s Louis’ jacket. Harry had brought it over a few nights ago. Seeing it makes me want to throw up. So I grab the jacket and I throw it into the fireplace, watching it light up in flames. Then I fall back onto the couch, knowing I haven’t really accomplished anything. I hear a clink as I think an ember hits the tile in front of the fire place. I go to pick it up and realize that’s its a key. But the key isn’t hot, so I know it hasn’t been in the fire. I think that it may have fallen out of the jacket before I threw it in, but why? My phone is vibrating in my pocket. It’s Harry.  
"Hello?" I ask.  
"Hey, how are you?"  
"I’m fine," I tell him. "But I just found something strange. A key. I think it fell out of Louis’ jacket."  
"Like a house key?"  
"No, its too small."  
"What do you think it’s for?"  
"I don’t know."  
"What about that box you have?"  
My eyes go wide. The box. This is no doubt the key for the box.  
"I’ll call you back Harry."  
I leave the phone on the couch and take the key to my bedroom. I pull out the box, an old lunchbox of Louis’, and try the key. It fits. The box opens and inside is a piece of paper that looks like it could fall apart any minute. It’s a letter. 

Zayn 

If you’re reading this it means you found my key. I just hope that it was sooner and not later for you. But you have to know that you haven’t just found a key. You’ve also found Harry. I gave you the box and him the jacket because I hoped the curiosity of only having one piece of the puzzle would bring you together one day. Not just together to open the box, but together in a way that is hopefully more permanent. I hope you take care of each other like I wanted for you. I hope he makes you as happy as he made me and as happy as you deserve to be. As for my sexuality, I’m sorry in never telling you. This may sound like a horrible excuse, but the timing was never right. I wanted to tell you for years, but I just couldn’t get myself to do it. I’m also sorry I killed myself and left you all alone. In leading you to Harry I hope that I could have made up for that, a least a little bit. I want you to be happier than I was, Zayn. I want you to do the things you’ve always dreamed of. 

Much love  
Lou xx 

I drop the letter next to the bed, my eyes as wide as they could be. Louis. Louis planned all of this- the jacket, the letter, the key.. But he also planned his own death and I didn’t know how I felt about that. How could I not have seen the signs? Was I too blind?  
I find myself crying and curled up on top of my comforter. The note is still in my hand, held tightly. I want to call Harry and tell him all of this but I also want to be by myself to process this. I realize that I have to process this- his death- again. It hurts worse this time. 

"Zayn, baby wake up."  
I open my eyes to the sound of Harry’s voice slowly.  
"Hey," he smiles. "Missed you."  
"Huh?" I sit up and look around. What time is it?  
"It’s almost four," he says. "You’ve been asleep for a good fourteen hours now."  
"No," I tell him. "I went to work this morning."  
Harry shakes his head. “I’ve been here all night. You’ve been asleep.”  
"But you left when Niall and Liam did.."  
He nods. “I did, but then you called to say goodnight and I was too worried about you to sleep. I came over here and stayed out on the couch while you had your rest. I’ve been here since last night Zayn, you’ve slept all day.”  
"But I destroyed the jacket, and the letter.."  
I search the bed for the letter but it’s no where to be found. And the box too.  
"Louis’ jacket?" he asks. "It’s on the couch."  
I detangle myself from the covers and go out to the living room. The jacket is sitting there, as if nothing had happened to it. I grab it and shake it out, hoping to find the key. But there is no key this time. I go to the bedroom and the box from under the bed is gone too.  
"Zayn," Harry frowns. "You’re worrying me."  
I sigh and let myself fall back to the mattress. It was a dream, all of it. But it was so real. I can still feel the texture of the paper in my hands. 

* * * 

"Hello again old friend," I smile. "I know it’s been a while but I wanted to let you know that I took your advice."  
I take a seat on the new grass that has grown.  
"I let myself be happy," I tell him. "Harry’s happy too."  
I look back to the path to see Harry headed my way, carrying the flowers we had picked out.  
"You look great," he tells Louis.  
I smile as he lays the flowers down by my feet.  
"Happy birthday old friend," he says. "I know the flowers aren’t much, and don’t compare to the gift you have given me," Harry pauses and looks down to me, I smile, "but know that you are missed and that we love you."  
I reach out a hand for Harry to help me up and he does. We stand in silence a moment, looking down to Louis’ gravestone. After a few minutes Harry takes my hand again.  
"Ready to go?" he asks.  
I nod and we take the path back to his car.  
"You think he’s happy?" I ask.  
Harry nods. “I think he is. He was always really happy when he got his way, wasn’t he?” Harry squeezes my hand. “You and I were his last wish and it looks like he got what he wanted.”  
I smile at that. “Yeah, look at us now.”  
"Are you happy?” he asks.  
I nod.  
"Me too," Harry smiles. 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://styleslovesmalik.tumblr.com)!


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